Sherlock and John
by thefangoddess
Summary: basically a ton of one shots (hopefully) about Johnlock so
1. I have a date Sherlock!

"Sherlock?" John asked, looking at the detective curling into his side.

"Hmm?" he asks, looking up at him with his blue-green eyes.

"What are you doing?" John raised an eyebrow.

" 'm cold." he explains.

"Get a blanket." John suggests.

"You're warmer." Sherlock mumbles, burying his face into John's side. John rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." John mutters, turning back to his computer.

"What are you typing?" Sherlock asks.

"Our latest case." John replies. Sherlock looks up and reads over his shoulder.

"Don't write that!" he exclaims.

"What?" John asks, looking at the detective with confusion.

"The part about how I got shot!" Sherlock clarifies.

"But you did get shot." John points out, gesturing to the bandages still wrapped around his arm.

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean the whole world needs to know." Sherlock mutters, pouting.

"You realize that you are a human being, right?" John asked.

"That is highly offensive John." Sherlock replies, glaring at him.

"You are! And humans get hurt. So get over it." John smiles slightly and finishes up the blog, then publishes it. Sherlock is still pouting and John rolls his eyes.

"Sherlock, move, I need to get ready." John says, putting his laptop to the side and attempting to push Sherlock away. Of course, Sherlock being Sherlock, he proceeded to crawl onto John's lap like a little kid.

"Sherlock!" John protested. Sherlock looked up and his face was a few inches from John's.

"Yes John?" he asked innocently. John's face was turning red and he seemed flustered.

"Get off me!" he exclaimed.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, looking hurt (though it was just an act). "Because, Sherlock, you're on my lap and I have to get ready!" John exclaims.

"What for?" Sherlock asks, knowing perfectly well that John has a date.

"I have a date tonight!" John exclaims, struggling against Sherlock.

"Dull." Sherlock mutters.

"I don't care, after this week with you, I need a night off!" John almost shouts.

"John, don't go." Sherlock demands, resting his head on John's shoulder.

"Why not?" John asks, angry.

"Because I don't want you to." Sherlock says, looking up and kissing John on the cheek. John freezes, mouth open in a failed attempt to say that that's not a good enough reason. Sherlock climbs off of John and walks into the kitchen to tend to an experiment.

"Sherlock." John says. The curly haired man peeks around the corner.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Why did you kiss me?" the man asks, siting straight and tall, trying to look like he's not freaking out when he is.

"Because I like you. Obviously." Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Come here." John orders, and for once, Sherlock obeys. He stands in front of John as he stands up. And then suddenly John's kissing Sherlock on the mouth and Sherlock is frozen in shock for a moment. John starts to pull away, afraid he did the wrong thing, but then Sherock's hands are cupping his cheeks and his lips are soft on his. Suddenly, there's a short intake of breath and Sherlock steps back.

"John, I believe your _date _is here." Sherlock says the word with so much disgust you'd have thought he said garbage can. John doesn't seem to be able to talk and Sherlock isn't much help either.

"I knew you two were together." the girl shouts angrily, then storms out. John sighs and walks into the kitchen.

"Interesting theory in getting rid of my date this time Sherlock." John jokes. Sherlock smiles and continues to inspect something through a microscope.


	2. The Nightmare Experiment

"Sherlock!" John shouts, watching the detective get pushed off a ledge for the millionth time. And then he wakes up. Sherlock is there, looking at him worriedly.

"Are you alright?" the man asks. John starts to nod but the look on Sherlock's face makes it impossible to lie to him so he ends up shaking his head.

"Why are you in here?" John asks.

"I heard you yell...my name. You screamed my name." Sherlock explains. John looks down.

"Yeah."

"Why did you scream my name?" Sherlock asks.

"Because Moriarty pushed you off the ledge." John whispers, still not looking at Sherlock.

"But I jumped. Moriarty didn't push me." Sherlock says, confused.

"But when you explained why you...why you had to jump, it seems as if Moriarty _did _push you." John explains. Sherlock nods, suddenly understanding.

"But I'm back now, so why do you keep having nightmares?" he asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. John sighs and shakes his head.

"You wouldn't understand." he mutters. "I'm fine now, you can go back to whatever you were doing before I interrupted you." John waves Sherlock away, but he doesn't move an inch.

"Sherlock." John says.

"I was studying you, John." Sherlock says matter-of-factly.

"What?" John asks, suddenly uncomfortable.

"I was watching you, as I have been these past few weeks every time you have a nightmare. I'm seeing what sort of things calm you down, and until now things have gone smoothly. Either you continue having the dream and whatever I'm trying doesn't work, or you immediately calm down. Tonight is the only time you've woken up, obviously." Sherlock explains.

"What have you tried?" John asks, suddenly interested.

"I've tried talking to you which never works, I've tried calming you down by putting my hand on your shoulder which always works, and then tonight I kissed you." Sherlock says. "You what?" John exclaims. Sherlock frowns at him.

"Do be a bit quieter John, is most likely still asleep." Sherlock scolds.

"Did you say you kissed me?" John whisper yells.

"Yes." Sherlock nods.

"Why?" John asks, extremely confused and not quite sure if he feels uncomfortable or happy.

"Because, I was seeing if a kiss might calm you down, honestly John you act as if I molested you in your sleep. It was just a kiss and as you can see it didn't come close to calming you down and most likely won't be used in further experiments." Sherlock rolls his eyes and, though unspoken, you can hear the 'obviously' tone to his voice.

"You can't just do that Sherlock." John groans, leaning back onto the pillows.

"Do what? Kiss people? Obviously, but you aren't exactly people John. You're my only friend. Besides, it was an experiment, why is it that big of a deal?" Sherlock asks, confused.

"I'm your only friend?" John asks, ignoring Sherlock's questions and sitting up. Sherlock frowns slightly.

"Well yes, of course you are. Isn't it obvious?" he says, even more confused.

"Not really. You treat me similar to most other people, what with your comments on how unobservant I am and the constantly leaving me everywhere." John explains. Sherlock frowns.

"But John, I don't treat you like everyone else. I treat you so much differently. The main purpose of this experiment is to figure out the most effective way to calm you down when you're having a nightmare because I hate hearing you cry out. I hate it." Sherlock says, looking straight at John, trying to make him understand. "You're the only I listen to as well." he continues. "When Mycroft or try to make me eat or sleep I ignore them, but when you tell me to I obey because I don't want you worrying. And all those times after I came back, like when I pulled you out of the fire and when I killed Magnussen, those were because of the dreaded sentiment you managed to make me feel. John, when you were in that fire I thought I would never see you for a few moments, and that thought filled me with an emptiness that I don't ever want to feel again." John gapes at Sherlock, completely in awe.

"Sherlock..." he says quietly. Sherlock looks up at John with his bright blue-green eyes and places a small kiss on his cheek.

"John." he says, then stands up and walks out of the room.


	3. Have You Reached a Conclusion?

"Sherlock please." John tries pleading with the eccentric man. But to no avail. Sherlock continues to screech out notes from his violin. At 3:00 in the morning. Sure they're beautiful, but then again, so is 8 hours of sleep.

"John, I am thinking." He says, continuing his song.

"Why can't you find some other way to think?" John mumbles. The screeching stops.

"I could. But it might be a whole lot more unpleasant for you." the detective says.

"What is it?" John asks hopefully.

"It seems I work better when I'm around you, but you're currently asleep." he takes a deep breath. "I would need to sleep with you. In your bed I mean. Not the one that refers to sex." he clarifies. John raises an eyebrow.

"That is a bit strange. But if it means you will let me get some damn sleep I really do not care." John said, rolling his eyes and walking back up to his room. A few minutes later he heard Sherlock coming up the stairs as well. He said nothing as he slipped under the blanket with John, and resumed his thinking. John soon fell back asleep.

When John woke up, he felt arms looped around his waist and long legs entangled with his. Sherlock had fallen asleep. Not wanting to wake him, John lay there until he woke up, which probably was a fairly bad idea.

"Morning John." he mumbled when he did wake up. His breath hit John's neck and made him shiver.

"Good morning Sherlock. Did you figure out whatever you were thinking about last night?" John asked, trying to pretend this was normal, because it seemed Sherlock was not letting him go any time soon.

"Yes." Sherlock's lips rested on John's neck. "I did." John turned red and tried to turn to look at him, but Sherlock held him in place.

"Oh? And what was your answer." John asked, his voice a bit shaky.

"That I am attracted to you." Sherlock said simply, kissing John's neck again.

"Sherlock." John mumbled.

"Yes John?"

"Let me turn around." Sherlock did as he was told and John flipped around so that he was facing Sherlock. He was just about to say something along the lines of how he was flattered, but he didn't feel the same way, when Sherlock's lips landed on his. John found himself kissing back. Kissing back and _enjoying _kissing his decidedly _male_ flatmate. When they broke apart John's face was red and Sherlock seemed out of breath.

"Well. It seems I am attracted to you also Sherlock." John said, then smiled. Sherlock grinned back and they kissed again.


	4. John's Tattoos

"John. John. John. John." Sherlock keeps knocking on the door and saying John's name.

"What the bloody hell do you want?!" John throws open the bathroom door angrily, wearing nothing but a towel held loosely around his waist. Sherlock's eyes widen and he becomes flustered.

"I-I'm bored." He stutters, trying (and failing) to keep his eyes locked on John's face. He can't help but notice how wonderful he looks, and the tattoos are fascinating and he would love to be able to study them, and his _scar_. John raises an eyebrow and clears his throat.

"Sherlock, what do you want me to do about it?" John asks, smirking slightly at how flustered Sherlock is.

"What?" Sherlock asks, slightly alarmed at being spoken to.

"What do you want me to do to cure your boredom?" John repeats, his smirk growing.

"John, when did you get those tattoos?" Sherlock asks.

"Various times in my life, why?" John cocks his head to the side slightly.

"Sherlock, just let me get dressed real quick and I'll let you look them, okay?" John says, still smirking. Sherlock simply nods and backs away as John pushes past him and into his room. He comes out a few minutes later, this time with jeans on, but still no shirt. Sherlock watches him until he stops in front of him, at which point he casts his eyes downward.

"Come on, stop standing in the middle of the hallway." John smiles at him and starts walking into the living room. Sherlock follows him, then as soon as he stops steps right into his personal space, trailing his fingers over the tattoo on John's shoulder and then down to the one on his side and so on and so on. John has a total of 7 tattoos, and Sherlock traces and catalogues them all. Sherlock runs his fingers along the one nearest John's scar, and then his attention is focused on it. He runs his fingers lightly across it and John immediately stiffens.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock says quickly, face turning red.

"No, no, it's fine. Just self-conscious about it is all." John explains. Sherlock nods and continues studying it. It doesn't hold his attention for long before he becomes distracted by the sudden realization that he is _very _close to John, and that he _really_ wants to kiss him but is _very _unsure of whether or not he should. He glances up at John, who is looking down at him and they're so close and _something _needs to happen.

"John." Sherlock breathes out. And then lips crash against lips, everything is suddenly so unimportant because Sherlock is kissing John and it feels as if they aren't ever going to stop. When they do, it's John that pulls away first.

"Are you still bored?" He jokes, smiling. Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"Of course not John." He smiles. "You always chase the boredom away."


	5. Thinking of You

Sherlock has been sitting on the couch all day, deep in thought. As always, John wonders what he's thinking about, seeing as they aren't currently on a case.

"Sherlock? What are you thinking about?" he asks, glancing up from where he is making tea.

"You." Sherlock says without thinking. John almost drops his mug.

"Excuse me?" he asks, his eyes widening and he looks over his shoulder at the man who is now a dark shade of red.

"I didn't mean to say that." he says, avoiding John's gaze.

"What did you mean to say?" John asks, turning around.

"I meant to say nothing. To stay silent." Sherlock looks at the ceiling. "But you're so damn distracting I didn't even think before I said anything.

"I'm distracting?" John asks, surprised.

"Yes, especially when I'm trying to figure things out about you. Like why I have so much of the things you do catalogued in my mind palace, why I have an entire fucking _floor _dedicated to you." Sherlock is growing frustrated.

"What do you mean?" John asks, confused.

"I mean that I know all these stupid facts about you, like how you prefer to write your blog in the same room as me, no matter how much noise I'm making, and how you hate your middle name, and that your middle name is Hamish. I know how you like your coffee, and I know that you only have nightmares when we haven't had a case in a while. I know that when you do have nightmares your limp starts acting up, and that you hate it when you have to stand close to me around other people because it just emphasizes how short you are. I know that you're right handed. I know that you hate it when I don't eat or sleep enough. I know you hate it when I smoke. I know all these useless facts about you and I can't seem to delete them." Sherlock has stood up by this point and is pacing around the room, using wild hand gestures. John is standing there, completely in awe at the fact that Sherlock knows all of this. Completely in awe that Sherlock Holmes pays that much attention to him.

"Sherlock, calm down." John finally manages to say. Sherlock turns toward him and the look on his face is almost terrifying.

"Don't tell me to calm down when I think I might be in love." he says, his voice so low it's a growl. John's eyes widen and he starts smiling.

"What? Why are you smiling? Stop that!" Sherlock's expression turns to one of confusion as he watches John turn back around.

"You don't understand." Sherlock grumbles, collapsing back into his chair.

"Of course I don't Sherlock." John says, as if trying to please a child. A smile is still plastered on his face.

"You're stupid." Sherlock curls into a ball and buries his face into the fabric of the chair, lapsing into silence.

"I know I am. Oh, and Sherlock?" John calls over to the lump.

"What?" Sherlock growls, his voice muffled.

"I love you too."


	6. Blind

**This one is an AU where John is blind**

Sherlock watches as John stumbles into the living room, using his hands to find his way.

"Have you seen my-" he starts.

"Leaning against your chair." Sherlock replies, already knowing what he was asking for. John smiles gratefully at him (or at least in his general vicinity) and feels his way over to his chair, grabbing hold of his cane. He then makes his way into the kitchen where Sherlock is conducting an experiment at the kitchen table.

"What are you doing?" John asks, sitting down across from him.

"Something for the case. You wouldn't understand." Sherlock says simply. John, used to this behavior, smiles.

"Of course I wouldn't." he says quietly, a small smile still on his face. Sherlock glances up at him, and smiles. This is always his favorite time to be around John. When he's just woken up his hair is still a mess and he is always jokey and sarcastic. He loves being around John all the time, but this is his favorite. John begins to look a bit uncomfortable.

"Are you staring at me?" he asks, shifting in his chair.

"Yes." Sherlock replies, his smile growing.

"Please stop." John requests.

"Okay." Sherlock goes back to his experiment.

.oOo.

They are all standing around yet another body. Sherlock is silently cursing himself for being so slow as he dances around the crime scene. John can tell from the sharpness of Sherlock's words that he's upset with himself.

"Sherlock, come here." he says firmly after a few more insults are thrown at Anderson. He hears Sherlock approach him and puts his hand out onto the man's shoulder.

"It's not your fault. You'll catch him." John says quietly, so that only him and Sherlock can hear.

"I know." Sherlock whispers back, then bounces off again.

.oOo.

Within 4 hours Sherlock has solved the case. He and John are on their post-case high, and Sherlock is fascinated with the way John is laughing and smiling even though he didn't take part in the chase. He can tell John misses it. Sherlock blames himself for John's blindness, though it wasn't directly his fault. John had been kidnapped during a case and the kidnappers had tortured him. One of the tortures was putting chemicals in his eyes. Since then he'd been blind and unable to chase criminals through London alongside his friend.

"I'm sorry John." Sherlock says, seemingly randomly.

"For?" John asks, confused.

"For you being blind." Sherlock clarifies. John sighs, exasperated.

"Sherlock, we have been over this, it wasn't your fault." John says sternly.

"I still feel responsible." Sherlock says quietly. John stands and maneuvers his way over to Sherlock's chair, then kneels down in front of him.

"Sherlock, look at me." John says. Sherlock does, even though technically he doesn't have to. John wouldn't know either way.

"I need you to know that it's not your fault. Tell me that it's not your fault." John commands.

"It's not my fault." Sherlock mumbles.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page." John says, then stands and leans over, trying to kiss Sherlock on the forehead and hitting his nose.

"Sorry." John mumbles. But Sherlock is smiling. He stands up, and then kisses John on the mouth.

"Don't be. It was cute." Sherlock says softly, causing John to smile.

"I really love you sometimes." John says quietly.

"I really love you all times." Sherlock whispers back.

.oOo.

Sherlock awakes to the feeling of fingers tracing his face. He smiles. This is something John does often, since he can no longer see Sherlock. He doesn't want to forget what he looks like.

"Good morning." John murmurs.

"Good morning." Sherlock replies, shifting forward and kissing John on the cheek. A smile spreads across his features.

"I don't think I want to move today." John decides.

"Me neither." Sherlock agrees. And so they don't.


	7. Wings

**I'm very into AU's recently. Winglock AU.**

**Warning: the crime scene dead body is a bit gruesome**

Sherlock was hunched over his microscope, his large, black wings folded upwards behind him. John smiled as he walked into the kitchen, then frowned.

"Sherlock, how long has it been since you last slept?" he asks worriedly.

"5 days." Sherlock mumbles. John sighs and pulls out his chair.

"Come on, you're going to sleep." He orders. Sherlock reluctantly stands up and shuffles into his bedroom. John follows him to make sure he's actually going to sleep.

"John, it's creepy having you watch me while I go to sleep, so either you go to sleep too, or leave please." Sherlock, now a lump of blankets with wings, says. John rolls his eyes and moves over to flop down on the bed next to Sherlock. He has absolutely no intention of sleeping, it being the middle of the day and all, but his blinks get slower and slower, his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, and eventually, he's asleep.

John wakes up to black feathers. He looks around, confused, until he finds Sherlock with his head buried in his shoulder. He begins to notice the feeling of arms around his waist as well and realizes the feathers must be Sherlock's wings that he wrapped around them while he was asleep. John tries to shift out of Sherlock's grasp, but only results in waking him up.

"Sorry." John says, blushing.

"It's fine." Sherlock mumbles, his face still buried in John's shoulder.

"You can go back to sleep if you want, but I need to get up. I have a date." John says, trying to push Sherlock off of him. Sherlock's arms tighten around him.

"No you don't. You missed it. It was at 8:00 I assume?" Sherlock says, his voice still muffled.

"Yeah." John replies, sighing.

"It's 9:00 in the morning." Sherlock says, then retracts his wings from around them. Morning light is coming through the window. John laughs.

"Then we really need to get up. Come on Sherlock." John rolls out of bed, Sherlock's arms finally loosening, and then pulls Sherlock up too. Sherlock immediately checks his phone, and a wide grin spreads across his face.

"We have a case John, grab your coat!" He exclaims, jumping to his feet and sprinting to the door. John quickly follows, laughing.

.oOo.

Sherlock is bouncing around the crime scene like a child on Christmas Day. The body on the ground is barely recognizable as human. All the limbs have all been hacked off and are hanging from the ceiling, the head has been bashed in, and the entire front has been cut open and the organs splayed about around it. Most of the officers had to leave the room and now only Sherlock, John, and Lestrade are left. Lestrade's plain and normal brown wings are half enclosed around him, as if to block the sight from him.

"Sherlock, are you almost done?" he asks, trying to sound annoyed. Sherlock straightens up from his crouch near the body.

"Yes. You are looking for Sherry Morgans, age 24." Sherlock says, holding up a driver's license.

"Never carry an ID to a murder." he says, smiling. John shakes his head slightly, signaling for him to stop smiling. He does almost immediately.

.oOo.

John is hurt. Sherry put up a fight when they cornered her, and John got hurt. She stabbed him. Sherlock is holding him close, his large wings wrapped around them and trying to keep John awake until the ambulance arrives.

"John, you're going to be alright, the ambulance is almost here, Lestrade said so, I just need you to stay awake." Sherlock pleads. When the ambulance does arrive, Sherlock climbs in after John. When John does lose consciousness, Sherlock almost loses it.

"It's been forever, when do I get to go see John." Sherlock demands, pacing the waiting room, his wings close to knocking multiple things over because they're almost spread out to their full length. Mycroft sighs, his own red wings sagging with his shoulders.

"Do have some patience brother." he says. Sherlock shoots him a glare.

"Why are you even here?" he growls.

"To make sure you don't terrorize the doctors." Mycroft replies. In truth, he was there to make sure Sherlock wasn't having a breakdown.

.oOo.

The moment the doctors let him, Sherlock dashes into the room John's in. John is awake, and when he sees Sherlock he smiles weakly.

"Hey." he says quietly.

"Don't ever do that again or so help me God I will personally throw you in the Thames." Sherlock threatens, but John only laughs.

"I won't. Promise." he says, smiling. Sherlock finally allows himself to feel relief.

"You're not dead. I thought you were going to die. She hurt you bad." he rambles, going to stand next to the hospital bed. John reaches out and takes Sherlock's hand.

"I didn't though." he reassures Sherlock, and then kisses his knuckles. Sherlock smiles slightly.

"I know."

.oOo.

It's been about a month since John got back from the hospital, but they still haven't gotten any cases, which to be honest, is probably a good thing. Sherlock and John are sitting on the couch on this particular night, just talking. John is leaning back against Sherlock and Sherlock is running his fingers through John's feathers.

"Sherlock?" John says, breaking the silence they had fallen into.

"Yes?"

"I love you, you know that right?"

"I know." John nods, as if to say 'good'.

"John?" Sherlock says a few minutes later.

"Hm?"

"I love you too."

.oOo.

**Author's Note: Sorry, I feel like this one was a bit out of character. I may or may not have used it to defuse my anger (I did) because this guy was being stupid.**


	8. John, You're Drunk

John stumbles through the door at around 1:00 AM. Sherlock, of course, is still awake, and glances up at him from his position on the couch where he's reading.  
"John?" he asks, scanning over him. He comes to a conclusion. John Watson is drunk.

"Hello Sherlock." John smiles and his words are slurred. He makes his way over to the detective, only tripping once.

"John, what are you-" Sherlock starts, but is then cut off by John practically falling on top of him and pressing his lips to his. Sherlock's eyes widen and he freezes up for a solid minute before relaxing and kissing John back. When John eventually pulls away, Sherlock's rationality returns.

"John, you're drunk." He states, as if this fact is going to make John see why he probably shouldn't be kissing his flatmate.

John hiccups. "Probably." he hiccups again. A goofy grin is spread across his features and he leans forward again before Sherlock can protest further.

"John." Sherlock tries to say, but it's barely understandable because of John's lips against his.

"_John.._" Sherlock says, a bit more forcefully, as he pushes John off of him.

"You can't do this when you aren't in control of your actions." He tries to explain. John doesn't seem to understand, because as soon as the sentence leaves Sherlock's mouth he's kissing him again and mumbling 'I don't care'. Sherlock can't help it, and soon he's kissing John back and he forgets all about the fact that John is drunk despite the fact that his mouth tastes strongly of alcohol. He just kisses John and forgets everything.

.oOo.

When John wakes up, his face is buried in the crook of someone's neck. He doesn't know who's quite yet, but he knows that it is, in fact, a neck. He can feel someone's-probably the owner of the neck-arms around his waist and pulling him close to them. And then the smell hits him. The smell that's distinctly Sherlock. Shit.

"Good morning John." his deep voice says. John's heart rate picks up as he realizes that _oh god he slept in the same bed as Sherlock Holmes_.

"Good morning." John manages to choke out. He begins to wonder what happened last night, and oh god, they wouldn't have, would they?

"Just so you know, no John, we did not have sex." Sherlock reassures him. John relaxes slightly.

"Though we did kiss quite a bit." John's heart practically stops.

"Oh calm down would you?" Sherlock says, his voice audibly annoyed.

"I'm sorry Sherlock." John manages to say. He feels Sherlock shift and soon his face is in John's line of sight.

"Sorry for what?" he asks, kissing John softly. John's heart rate skyrockets. Sherlock pulls away chuckling.

"You really are very strange my dear John." he says. John simply smiles.

"Not as strange as you." he teases, his smile growing. Sherlock grins. And then they kiss again.


	9. Good Enough

**Just wanted to say thank you so much for the kind reviews, they literally make my day**

Sherlock has been acting strangely as of late, well, stranger than normal. And John is going to get to the bottom of it.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John asks, worried, as Sherlock continues to avoid his gaze.

"Nothing." he replies sharply.

"It's something, and as your boyfriend I deserve to know. I can't stand you being upset." John argues.  
"I said it's nothing John." Sherlock hisses angrily, then abruptly stands up and exits the room. John sighs and goes over Sherlock's actions recently. Avoiding him, going back to sleeping in his own room at night (and locking the door so John can't come in), leaving him behind constantly, not telling him about cases, ignoring him. John can only come to one conclusion, and it makes his heart ache. Sherlock wants to break up with him. John's heart plummets. He slowly stands up and makes his way over to Sherlock's bedroom.

"If you want to break up with me Sherlock, just say so." he calls through the locked door. His voice only cracks once. The door flies open and Sherlock looks down at John incredulously.

"Break up with you?" Sherlock asks, bewildered.

"You obviously are no longer interested. Why else would you act this way?" John explains.

"No, no, no, John you have it all wrong. I was trying to make you break up with me." Sherlock clarifies, but only makes John more confused.

"Still sounds like you're uninterested in me." John says.

"No, I just don't feel like I'm good enough for you, so I was trying to get you to break up with me so you could find someone who was." Sherlock explains.

"Sherlock..." John looks up at him with sadness written all across his face.

"You are so wonderful and kind John, and I'm a heartless dick." Sherlock says quietly. John reaches up and cups Sherlock's cheek.

"Sherlock, you are not a heartless bastard." John says firmly, staring Sherlock in the eye. He stands on his tip-toes and plants a kiss on Sherlock's lips.

"And you will always be good enough. Always."

.oOo.

John wakes up the next morning to the feeling of kisses being placed across his face and neck. He smiles and opens his eyes.

"Good morning, love." he says softly. Sherlock stops trailing kisses across his cheekbones and moves to place his mouth on top of John's.

"Good morning." he replies, mumbling the words against John's lips.

"I love you." John mumbles back. A wide smile takes over Sherlock's face.

"I love you too."


	10. Telepathic Connection

**This is an AU I came up with myself. Hope you guys enjoy it :)**

When there is mutual love between two individuals, a telepathic connection is made. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson both only had one voice inside their heads each. At least, they did, until that fateful Thursday. John was making tea, and Sherlock was studying him. It was then that they both suddenly heard a second voice in their heads. The voice of each other. John dropped the mugs on the ground and stared shell-shocked at Sherlock, who was equally as shocked.  
"Sh-Sherlock?" John asked, nervous. Sherlock was trying desperately to calm himself down, seeing as his heart was racing and he was close to hyperventilating.

"Yes John?" He managed to squeak out a few moments later.

"Why did I just hear your voice in my head?" John asked, still not quite believing what this situation was implying.

"I could ask you the same question." Sherlock replied, still trying to gain his usual composure.

"You do realize what this means, right?" John asks, his heart hammering in his chest.

"It means you love me." Sherlock says.

"And it also means that you must love me." John says. Silence. John steps closer.

"Sherlock?" he asks.

"I...I don't know what I'm supposed to say." he admits, looking all for the world like a deer in the headlights. John smiles slightly and steps closer.

"You realize that I can hear your thoughts. I know that you're panicking right now. It's okay, honestly Sherlock. Sherlock nods.

"You're panicking too John." he says quietly. John nods.

"I am." he agrees, taking yet another step towards the detective. By this point he's standing directly above him.

"But there's really no need to panic, is there?" John says quietly, his eyes staring into Sherlock's. Sherlock finds himself unable to speak, so he simply shakes his head.

"Good." John says, then leans down and pecks Sherlock on the lips. Alarm bells ring throughout Sherlock's head and John winces.

"Sorry, sorry." Sherlock mutters, attempting to make them stop. When he does, he looks up at John sheepishly.

"I'm sorry." he says quietly.

"No, no. Completely my fault." John says, waving Sherlock's apology away. Sherlock watches as John collapses into his chair.

"How long?" Sherlock asks suddenly.

"Hmm?" John asks, confused.

"How long have you...um...you know..._loved _me?" Sherlock stammers out, turning red and looking away, waving his hands on the last two words.

"About a year." John says casually. Sherlock's jaw drops.

"You're joking." he finally chokes out. John shakes his head.

"No, actually, I'm quite serious."

"A year? How could I not have known?"

"I'm very good at hiding things if I need to."

"A year...what the _hell _John. Why didn't you tell me?" Sherlock stares at the man incredulously. John shrugs.

"I knew you didn't feel the same way and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I was content with simply staying your friend for however long you needed me." John explains. Sherlock moves forward so that he's sitting on the floor in front of John.

"John...I am sorry. If I hadn't been so dead set on only ever having my own voice inside my head, I would have most likely fallen prey to these emotions much sooner." Sherlock says quietly. He expects John to agree with him, but what he hears instead is a bark of laughter. He tilts his head in obvious confusion.

"Sherlock, are you really sitting there apologizing for not loving me sooner?" John asks, clearly amused. Sherlock blushes.

"Well...yes. I am." he says, looking away.

"You're being ridiculous." John says, moving from his chair to the ground so that he's eye level with Sherlock.

"It's not your fault you didn't love me sooner." John says softly, then kisses Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't kiss back, but he doesn't pull away either. He catalogues, trying to figure out how to kiss, seeing as he has never kissed anyone before.

"Sherlock, stop." John mutters against his lips. And that's all he needs to turn off his brain, and just kiss John.

.oOo.

When he wakes up the next morning, John almost convinces himself that it was all a dream. And then he feels breath against his neck and arms looped around his waist.

"Good morning." Sherlock says quietly, his voice low and rumbly.

"Good morning." John says, a smile spreading across his face.

"You realize that technically, we don't even need to talk to communicate anymore. This whole telepathy thing will come in handy." Sherlock says quietly, mumbling his words against John's neck.

"Yes, it will. Now I'll always know exactly when the last time you ate and slept was." John smirks, shifting around so that he's face-to-face with Sherlock.

"And I'll always know where you are when criminals kidnap you." Sherlock rumbles, a smile spreading across his face as well. Sherlock's phone chimes at exactly that moment, and he reaches across John to get it off of his bedside table.  
"We have a case." Sherlock says, his grin widening. John laughs and shoves the blanket away, slowly climbing out of bed. He stretches and then stands, only to realize that he is without a shirt. He glances at Sherlock, who merely smiles and kicks the covers away from himself as well. He is also without a shirt, but John knows why. He's the one that removed it.

"Go get dressed." Sherlock scolds, smirking. John smiles and disappears to his own room.

Within 30 minutes they have arrived at the crime scene. As they duck under the caution tape Lestrade walks up to them, then leads them over to the body. It's a young man in about his 20's named Jonathan Frankton.

_John, come and tell me how this man died._ Sherlock thinks to John. John immediately kneels down next to him.

"He died of blood loss, but there are no wounds." John checks the man's arm, and sure enough finds the needle prick.

"Someone drew too much blood." He shows the man's arm to Sherlock, who smiles proudly.

"Lestrade, you're looking for his sister. She's a doctor, correct?" Sherlock says, standing up. Lestrade stares at him dumbfounded and nods.

"Honestly, Lestrade, you've been working with me for years now." Sherlock rolls his eyes.

_Be nice._ John scolds him silently. Sherlock looks at him as if he's offended.

"But, John, how can I be nice to someone so ignorant." Sherlock argues, this time out loud. Lestrade stares at them in confusion before he realizes what just happened.

"You're joking!" he exclaims suddenly. When the two of them look at him in confusion, he clarifies himself.

"You two are in love aren't you? You have a telepathic connection?" he asks. Sherlock blushes and looks away.

"Yes." He mumbles. Lestrade smiles at them.

"Congratulations I suppose. When did this happen?"

"Yesterday." John says, looking at the ground.

"John, we're leaving." Sherlock says, then grabs his arm and drags him away.

.oOo.

It's been a few days since the telepathic connection was made, but Sherlock and John have already become accustomed to two streams of thought.

"Sherlock, would you please stop thinking about the possible ways you could kill your brother? I am trying to sleep." John mumbles. Sherlock chuckles and wraps his arms around John's waist.

"Sorry." he says softly.

"No you aren't." John mutters, smiling softly.

"Love you John." Sherlock murmurs.

"I know."


	11. Why?

**yet another winglock fic**

Sherlock was one of the very few people in the world who had been born with wings. He had only ever met one other person with wings, and they had been a murderer. Until the age of 9 he had been proud of his wings. He had loved soaring through the sky and hitting Mycroft in the head when he was being an idiot (which was often). But then he went to public school for the first time. He had been homeschooled his entire life, but then his mother realized that his social skills were severely lacking, and decided that it was bad for him. All through school kids avoided him. They called him names like 'freak' and 'weirdo' and 'bird brain'. Sherlock began to hate his wings, despise them even. He never flew anymore, and he even went so far as to attempt to cut them off (though it too bad to even make a scratch). When he graduated and became a consulting detective, things got a little better. Anderson and Donovan still made fun of him about his wings, but Lestrade was there to scold them for it. Sherlock flew again, though only when he needed to to catch a criminal. Life went on this way for quite a while. And then he met John Watson.

Sherlock hears 2 people walk into the lab, one of them Mike Stanford and the other an unknown individual. Sherlock turns and sees the new person staring at him incredulously.

"Your wings..." he stares at them with wonder. Sherlock hunches his shoulders and shifts uncomfortably.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to stare." the man shakes his head and smiles apologetically. Sherlock nods back, blushing slightly.

"My name's John Watson." he holds out his hand for Sherlock to shake, which he does.

"Sherlock Holmes." he studies him for a moment.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asks. John looks taken aback for a moment before answering.

"Afghanistan. How did you-?"

"I'll explain some other time." Sherlock waves him away.

"Wait a second, some other time?" John is obviously confused. Usually Sherlock would be highly frustrated at this point, but for some reason he feels like he should be nice to John.

"Well, Mike obviously brought you here to introduce you to me, which means he thinks you would be a good flatmate for me and I you." Sherlock explains.

"So we barely know each other and we're getting a flat together?" John raises an eyebrow. Sherlock smiles.

"The address is 221B Baker Street. Meet me there at 2:00 tomorrow?" he says. John smiles and shakes his head.

"I guess?" Sherlock smiles again and glides out the door.

.oOo.

"For God's sake Sherlock, if you are going to lay all over the couch could you at least move your wings a bit so that they don't take up the entire bloody living room?" John says exasperatedly, shoving Sherlock's large black wing over a little bit.

"John that hurt." Sherlock whimpers.

"Sorry." John quickly apologizes, remembering how sensitive Sherlock's wings are.

"It's alright." Sherlock folds in his wings as he sits up. John goes and sits next to him, in the gap between his right wing and his shoulder (it's a fairly large gap). Sherlock looks at him and smiles.

"John, why do you put up with me? We have lived and worked together for about a year now and not once have you threatened to leave me or called me a freak, despite my wings and above average intelligence." Sherlock asks, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"Because you're my best friend Sherlock." John replies, putting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock's eyes grow wider and his mouth opens and closes but no words come out. He resembles a goldfish for a short moment before sputtering out a few words.

"I'm y-your best...friend?" he asks.

"Of course Sherlock. Why wouldn't you be?" John is the confused one now.

"Because...well because I'm me. I leave body parts in the refrigerator and throughout the flat, I refuse to eat and sleep when you tell me to, I am a complete dick when I'm bored, and treat you like shit even when all you do is be kind and patient with me." Sherlock says. John smiles.

"Well, while all of those are true, you're still my best friend. You want to know why? Because of all the things you do when you aren't doing those things. When you thank me for your tea, when your eyes light up when you've hit your eureka moment, when you pass out in my bed or on the couch." John says, smiling gently at Sherlock.

"John...would you get mad at me if I told you that I'm in love with you?" Sherlock says softly. John's smile widens.

"Not in the slightest."

**Author's Note: I honestly meant for this to be a fic about how Sherlock hates his wings and how John shows him that they don't make him a freak, that they make him special, but as you can see, that did not happen. I will probably still write that though, sometime in the hopefully near future.**


	12. Jealousy

Sherlock looks around the club, looking for the criminal. Although, there's only a 40% chance of him showing up. He just needs to look anywhere but at John. John who is talking to some scantily dressed girl. John who is making this girl laugh and smile and lean closer to him. Sherlock sees John stand up, helping her up as well. In her drunken state, she loses her balance and falls forward onto John, who laughs and catches her. She doesn't make any effort to move, and neither does he. Sherlock can't stand it anymore. He stands up and walks out of the club, leaning against the wall outside to wait for John. He sends a quick text so that John knows where he is.

_Outside. Come when you're done. -SH_

It takes John a whole hour until he comes out. He looks over at Sherlock and cocks his head to the side.

"You all righ' Sherlock?" he slurs, stumbling over.

"I'm not the one who's drunk." Sherlock points out, which makes John smile.

"Fair point." he says. Sherlock begins the short walk back to 221B, John stumbling along beside him.

"Why did you leave?" John asks. Sherlock glances over at him.

"Too much noise." he lies.

"Oh." John looks slightly disappointed, but only for a moment.

"Why?" Sherlock asks, hoping to find out what the disappointment was for.

"Well, I was sorta tryin' to make you jealous with tha' girl." John admits. Sherlock freezes, staring shell-shocked at John.

"I know, I know, it was stupid." John says, looking down.

"Damn right it was stupid." Sherlock glares at him.

"Look, Sherlock, I'm sorry-" but John doesn't get to finish his sentence, because all of a sudden Sherlock's lips are on his. When they pull apart, Sherlock is smiling.

"It was stupid because it worked." he says. John laughs. Sherlock begins walking again, reaching over and taking John's hand.

.oOo.

John groans in pain. His first thought is that he _really _shouldn't have gotten as drunk as he did. He can't remember anything past getting that text from Sherlock. That's when he feels the breath against his neck and the arms around his waist. Fuck. He didn't actually go home with that girl, did he?

"Good morning John." Sherlock says. John completely freezes up. Oh. So he didn't go home with that girl.

"Sherlock, what happened last night?" he asks.

"You got really drunk and then you told me you were trying to make me jealous and then I kissed you." Sherlock explains in a groggy voice.

"Oh. So it worked?" John smiles.

"What does it look like?" Sherlock teases, causing John to elbow him in the ribs. Sherlock's phone chimes and he reaches over John to get it off his bedstand.

"We have a case." he says, then kicks off the covers. He stands up and John sees that he isn't wearing a shirt. He's mesmerized for a few moments before he notices Sherlock's smirk and snaps out of it, kicking the covers off of himself as well, revealing that he also is not wearing a shirt.

"You don't look so bad yourself." Sherlock teases, earning himself a hard jab in the stomach as John walks past him to go get dressed.

.oOo.

The case is fairly easy and Sherlock solves it in a little over an hour.

"Honestly Lestrade, it's so simple. A child could have solved it." Sherlock says, to which John gives him a stern look. Sherlock rolls his eyes, but obediently apologizes to Lestrade.

"I am sorry I insulted you." he says.

"Apology accepted." Lestrade replies, barely concealing a smirk. Sherlock glares at John, who simply kisses him on the cheek. Everyone's eyebrows shoot up and Sherlock blushes deep red and grabs John's wrist and drags him away.

"That was uncalled for." he mutter once in a cab. John laughs.

"What, kissing you?" he asks. Sherlock nods.

"Yes."

"Sherlock, that's what couples do. We are a couple now, right?" John asks, worry beginning to creep up on him.

"Yes, but...now all of Scotland Yard is going to make fun of me for finally finding someone who will tolerate me as a partner." Sherlock looks away, avoiding eye contact with John.

"If they do I'll punch them in the face." John reassures him, putting his hand on Sherlock's knee. Sherlock looks over at him and smiles.

"Thank you." he leans over and kisses John, which causes a wide grin to take over John's face.

"You're welcome."

**Author's Note: okay so I have been getting a lot of super nice reviews and I just wanted to say thank you. Those reviews literally make my day ily guys.**


	13. Sherlock's Weakness

Sherlock hates his wings. They had always set him apart from the other kids. Everyone else's wings were common colors, like grey or brown or red, but Sherlock's were the rarest color he could've gotten. Black. Only 3 other people in the world are known to have black wings, and they're all close to death. People were always scared of him, called him a demon, said he was going to go to Hell and that's why his wings were black. It didn't help that his intelligence already set him apart.

John Watson was praised throughout his life for his wings. They weren't a common color, in fact their color was almost as rare as black. His wings were white. Everyone thought he was an angel, what with his white wings on top of the fact that he was kind to almost everyone. He had many friends growing up, but none of them ever really stayed for very long. He didn't mind. They weren't really his friends anyway, just hung around him to make it seem like they were cool. He never really liked the fact that his wings were white, because it made him a spectacle.

.oOo.

"Bit different than in my day." John says as he walks into the lab. Sherlock turns around to look at the owner of the unfamiliar voice and his breath catches in his throat. The man's wings hover just behind him, the light making them shine. His wings are beautiful. That's when he notices Sherlock and his eyes widen.

"Uh, hi." he says.

"Hello." Sherlock replies. The man holds his hand out for Sherlock to shake, which he does.

"John. John Watson." he says with a small smile.

"Sherlock Holmes. Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asks. The man is taken aback for a moment.

"Afghanistan. How did you do that?" he asks, amazed. Sherlock simply waves the question away.

"So you're looking for a flatmate, correct?"

"Uh, yes. I am." John nods, quickly recovering from his shock. Mike chuckles.

"Something funny?" Sherlock turns to look at him, his wings looming behind him almost threateningly.

"Yes actually. The way you two are interacting is pretty funny." he replies, his own brown wings hovering behind him.

"Please leave Mike." Sherlock says simply, turning back to John. Mike leaves.

"Meet me at 221B Baker Street today at 4:00." Sherlock says, then swoops out the door, leaving a dumbstruck John in his wake.

.oOo.

"John, why are you staring at me?" Sherlock asks, not even turning to look at John.

"Your wings...they're fascinating." John says. Sherlock blushes.

"Oh. That's not what people usually say." he says quietly, turning away.

"What do people usually say?" John asks.

"That I'm a demon. That I'm evil." Sherlock mumbles. John walks over to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.

"They're idiots." he says firmly. Sherlock looks up at him and smiles.

"Well obviously." he jokes, making John laugh.

"Tea?" John asks, heading towards the kitchen.

"I'd love some." Sherlock says, smiling at John's back.

.oOo.

"John, I'm fine." Sherlock groans as John forces him to sit down on the couch as he goes to look for some bandages.

"Sherlock, she cut your wing. If I don't clean it and bandage it you may get an infection and never be able to fly again." John argues, coming back into the room. That shuts Sherlock up. He stays silent as John cleans the wound and bandages it up. When he's done, Sherlock turns around.

"Why?" he asks.

"Why what?" John raises an eyebrow.

"Why do you do that?" Sherlock clarifies.

"Bandage up your wounds? Sherlock, anybody would-"

"No. I mean why did you try to push me out of the way of her knife?"

"Oh. Because you're my friend Sherlock. I don't want you to get hurt."

"But you could have gotten hurt. That would have been unacceptable." Sherlock scowls.

"Sherlock, you can't protect me from everything. And I, sadly, am unable to protect you from everything. We just have to deal with it." John puts a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock instinctively leans forward and pecks John on the cheek. Once he realizes what he's done his eyes grow wide and he tries to stutter out an apology.

"J-John I am sorry, I was a-acting on instinct-" Sherlock's words are cut off by John's lips covering his own.

"Shut up and kiss me you idiot." John mutters against Sherlock's lips. And Sherlock does just that. John's hands graze across Sherlock's wings and he shudders, his wing trying to follow John's hand. John chuckles and pulls out of the kiss, causing Sherlock to whimper slightly.

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock whines, attempting to pull John back to kiss him some more, but John resists.

"Experiment." he teases, then runs his hand across the top of Sherlock's wing. Sherlock's eyes flutter shut.

"John. If you ever use this against me I will kill you." he threatens as John runs his hands through Sherlock's black feathers. The threat is made less worrying when Sherlock whimpers as John stops.

"I don't believe you." John whispers as he kisses Sherlock for the second time that night.

.oOo.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" John shouts angrily. Sherlock cowers slightly and blushes at the use of his full name. Several officers, including Anderson and Donovan, snicker as he slinks over to John.  
"You will stop insulting Lestrade's intelligence right now and say that you're sorry or so help me I will out your biggest weakness on my blog." John says firmly, so that just Sherlock can hear.

"You wouldn't." Sherlock's eyes get wide with fear.

"I would." John's face challenges Sherlock to test him. Sherlock doesn't.

"I'm sorry I insulted your intelligence Lestrade." Sherlock mumbles as he walks past, back towards the body. John has to hide a smile.

.oOo.

Sherlock is in John's lap as his fingers run through Sherlock's feathers.

"Sherlock if you don't stop making those noises is going to think something is going on up here." John teases.

"She knows that I'm asexual." he says before his eyes flutter shut again. John chuckles and turns his attention back to the telly. Nothing especially interesting, but Sherlock is actually letting him choose what they watch for once and John's never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"John?" Sherlock says a few moments later.

"Hmm?" John hums.

"I love you." John freezes. Sherlock shifts around so that he can see him.

"You...you what?" John stutters.

"You heard me. I love you." Sherlock repeats, then pecks John on the lips.

"You know the normal response is usually 'I love you too'." Sherlock says after a few minutes of John staring at him.

"I...Sherlock isn't it obvious?" John asks.

"Well, yes, but it would still be nice to hear it." Sherlock smirks and John rolls his eyes.

"Sherlock, I love you." he says, then kisses him.

"John?"

"Yeah."

"Can you start petting my wings again?"

"For God's sake."


	14. One Look

**I was procrastinating my summer assignment (I have to read the Pearl, blech) and I wrote this.**

One look and he knew. He saw everything I had been hiding from him for over a year.

"John." I choke out, pushing away the tears and the urge to crawl inside myself and never come out. His face is full of hurt and disbelief, and he's reaching out and running his finger across my arms, my chest, my neck. He's pulling me toward him and I can't help the whimper that escapes me as I crash into his chest, can't keep myself from burying my face in his shoulder and gripping him tightly.

"Sherlock, why did you hide this from me?" John asks, his voice almost steady, only a slight waver in his words.

"I couldn't let you see how broken I've become. How disgusting and hideous." I say into his shoulder. I feel his arms tighten around me.

"No. Sherlock never." he breathes, holding me at arms length now.

"You are the most brilliant, the most beautiful person I have ever met." John says, his steely blue eyes boring into me, forcing me to believe him.

I nod.

And then we crash into each other, mouth to mouth, chest to chest. I'm burning, fire burns through my body, so hot it's cold, and it burns away all the pain and sadness and memories I have tried so hard to forget. It burns away every single thing except John. John's mouth against mine, John's arms pulling me as close as I can get, John's chest against his so that he can feel his heartbeat.

_John_.

"John." I whisper against his lips. The only word I know. John John John John John John John John.

"Sherlock, I love you." the world stops. Everything freezes. You are stuck right where you are, because John just said he loves you and how can that possibly be? How can such a wonderful, beautiful man like him possibly love such a broken, disgusting _thing_ like you?

"Sherlock?" his voice brings me back and I stare at him in wonder.

"Why?" is all you can say. Why me? Why do you love _me_? Out of all the people more deserving of you, _why me_, John?

"Why?" John repeats, his disbelief evident. "You really don't understand anything at all, do you Sherlock? I love you because you're _you_. You leave body parts in the fridge and scattered around the flat and you chase criminals and nearly get killed and you hide _really _important things," he runs his fingers along the scars on my chest. "from me." He looks up at me and smiles. "I love you because I just can't help myself." My eyes are wide and I look at John in amazement.

"I love you John." I breathe out. The smile that grows across his mouth fills me with joy, so I keep saying it. I kiss his left cheek "I love you" I kiss his right cheek "I love you" I kiss his nose "I love you" his forehead "I love you" his neck "I love you" his lips "I love you".

John is laughing and it makes me laugh as well.

"You are so wonderful Sherlock." John says once he's caught his breath, and my heart soars. John Watson, _my _John Watson, _loves _me. I kiss him again and he smiles against my lips.

One look and he knew. He knew everything. And I couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note: yeah I know, it was a cliché as shit ending but hey, I wrote it in like 8 minutes and I needed something to post**


	15. Flying

**So someone asked if I was ever going to do a winglock story where the two of them fly, and so here it is.**

Sherlock never flew. He claimed that he didn't like it, but John thought it was something else.

"Sherlock?" he asks one day, approaching the subject with caution.

"Yes?" Sherlock replies, not looking up from his microscope.  
"Would you please come fly with me?" John asks carefully.

"John, I have told you-"

"What if I said it was a date?" John says, hoping that would do the trick. He's suspected Sherlock's own feelings for quite some time now, and he's been hiding his own since before they met Irene Adler. Sherlock freezes.

"Date?" he asks, staring incredulously at John.

"Date." John confirms, smirking at the reaction he's caused.

"I...John I...um...uh..." Sherlock stutters, trying to form a sentence.

"You are fairly transparent to me Sherlock." John says, his voice full of amusement. Sherlock smiles sheepishly.

"I...I guess that if it is a _date_ I will go." he says, still looking slightly uncomfortable. John smirks triumphantly.

"Well come on then." he grabs his and Sherlock's coat, tossing Sherlock's to him before slipping his own on.

"Um, John, before we go I think I should probably tell you the reason that I am so opposed to flying." Sherlock says, grabbing hold of John's arm before he could bound down the stairs.

"Right, of course." he smiles warmly at Sherlock.

"I, um, well, I don't exactly know _how _to fly." Sherlock looks at the ground sheepishly, his face red.

"I can teach you then." John smiles, leaning and looking up so that Sherlock is looking him in the eye.

"You knew. How did you know?" Sherlock accuses. John laughs.

"Mycroft. Brought it up when he kidnapped me once. He said no one ever taught you and you never tried on your own." John says, smiling warmly. Sherlock simply nods.

"He's an awful brother." Sherlock says simply, looking up at John and smiling.  
"Come on." John slides his arm up so that Sherlock's holding his hand, and then drags him out the door. He doesn't notice the blush that creeps across Sherlock's face when their fingers intertwine.

.oOo.

It's been a total of 3 hours, and Sherlock and John are both covered in bruises and cuts from falling and crashing into trees, but Sherlock's finally got the hang of it. He's a bit wobbly, yes, but he's only just learned. John soars in circles around him as Sherlock clumsily flaps around, just barely in control.

"This is amazing." he breathes out, smiling wide. It takes John's breath away.

"I know right?" John agrees, flying a bit closer, but not close enough that their wings knock against each other.

"Come on, let's fly back to Baker street." John suggests, eyes hopeful. Sherlock smiles.

"I was thinking Angelo's. We are on a date after all." he winks and John nearly falls out of the sky.

.oOo.

"Sorry again about the poor landing Angelo." Sherlock says quietly, looking at the ground, before hurrying back out. John chuckles.

"He's just learned." he explains, then glances at the Sherlock sized hole in the window.

"We'll pay for it sometime in the near future." he promises, despite protests from Angelo. He then walks out and puts his arm around Sherlock's waist.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed." John says, smiling up at Sherlock, who glares half-heartedly at him.

"Can we just go home?" he mumbles, and John nods, shaking out his wings.

"Can we get a cab?" Sherlock asks meekly. John smiles kindly and nods again.

"Of course Sherlock."

.oOo.

When they get back to the flat, John stretches out his white wings as much as he can in the small area of their living room. Sherlock ducks under one of them, his own black wings brushing against his side. He turns to face John and smiles.

"Would you be angry if I kissed you?" he asks softly. John's smile lights up the room.

"I would be angry if you didn't." he replies. Sherlock smiles and kisses him lightly. John's wings wrap around him, pulling him closer. Sherlock chuckles as John presses their mouths together again.

"I really like you." John mumbles as Sherlock pulls away.

"I really like you back." a small smile graces Sherlock's face. John kisses him again, then yawns.

"Are you going to go to sleep tonight?" he asks.

"I might. Can I sleep in your bed?" Sherlock asks, blushing a bit. John smiles that radiant smile again and nods.  
"Come on." he reaches for Sherlock's hand and leads him upstairs.

It's the most peaceful night either of them have had in years.

**Author's Note: sorry it's a bit OOC and not very well written, but I was distracted and couldn't really get into the zone :/**


	16. Kidnapped

John has been missing for more than 12 hours, and Sherlock is going insane. He's been yelled at by both Mycroft and Lestrade for being insufferable and intolerable, and refuses to talk to him until he finds John. As of right now he's being reckless. John would not approve. But John isn't there, and that's the problem. The kidnapper texted Sherlock, and gave him a puzzle that when solved, led straight to the abandoned building John was hopefully being held hostage in. Sherlock hadn't even called the police until he was outside the building (Lestrade had shouted at him for a full minute before Sherlock hung up on him. He needed to get to John. He takes a breath before entering through the front door, making his presence known. The place reeks of cigarette smoke and shit, and Sherlock shudders.

"Welcome ." a voice calls from a room to the right of the door. Sherlock swoops in and his eyes immediately land on John. He's chained to a metal chair in the middle of the room, bruises and cuts covering every inch of visible skin.

"John." Sherlock breathes out, and attempts to lunge towards him, but is stopped by a wall of human being.

"Not just yet ." the man says, his voice smooth and businesslike.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" John starts pulling on his chains, trying to stand up.

"See what you've done? He was calm before you got here." the man sighs.  
"Lincoln, drug him." he drawls, and a man steps from the shadows, a syringe in his hand.

"No! Please, no!" Sherlock shouts, attempting to rush forward again. "I can fix it if you'll just let me talk to him." Sherlock has a pained look on his face. The man sighs.

"But you see , we know your methods. You'll have him unlocked and on his feet in no time, and we can't risk that." the man says. "But I suppose we don't have to drug him. I rather like the sounds of his screams." he smiles cruelly, and Sherlock's stomach twists.

"What do you want?" he snarls.

"Oh, we don't want anything. We just want to kill you and your pet as payback for putting our boss in jail." the man smiles that cruel smile and walks back over to John.

"First John, then you, so you can know what it's like to live without someone you love and know that it's your fault, have his screams still echoing through your head when you're dying." he takes a knife off a table in the back of the room and holds it to John's face.

"Such a pretty little face. Maybe I'll start with your arms instead." he then proceeds to slice a decent sized gash into John's arm. The scream that rips through him causes Sherlock to lunge forward again, a scream of his own escaping him. It continues like this for another 15 minutes until Lestrade shows up, the man slicing John's skin and John screaming and Sherlock practically in tears. As soon as Sherlock can, he flies to John, quickly picking the locks, sliding John out of the chair, and then holding him as they wait for the paramedics.

"Sherlock, I'm alright, it's nothing major, just a lot of blood loss, I'm fine." John repeats and tries to calm Sherlock down because he's never seen Sherlock cry and he doesn't want to start now.

"No it's not John, because I didn't get here in time and when I did there was nothing I could do and you could have _died_, John." Sherlock looks down at John, eyes raw with emotion.

"And all because we put some murderer's boyfriend in jail." John smiles weakly, and Sherlock can't help but smile back because John almost got _killed _and he made a deduction while in pain and about to be _tortured_ and how can he not smile because _John_.

"Caught that did you?" Sherlock laughs a bit. John nods.

"He said 'so you can know how it feels to live without someone you love and know it's your fault.'" John says. And then the paramedics come and they take John to the ambulance and Sherlock forces his way on and they let him even though he isn't family, because Sherlock is screaming and demanding and Lestrade tells them to just do it because he'll drive everyone mad if they don't. Sherlock holds John's hand the entire way to the hospital.

.oOo.

It's been 2 weeks since the incident. John has stitches in 4 different places. Sherlock has become a bit overprotective.

"Sherlock, is it really necessary for you to follow me everywhere?" John asks, a bit impatient. He's at work and Sherlock's there with him, being enormously annoying.

"Yes John, it is. I don't want you kidnapped again." Sherlock says. John sighs, but it's followed by a smile.

"I've been kidnapped before and you didn't react this way." John observes a few minutes later.

"You weren't tortured before." Sherlock says, his voice almost venomous.

"Oh." John doesn't talk to Sherlock again until they get back to 221B.

"Tea?" he suggests, and Sherlock nods,hovering in the kitchen as John makes it. John goes through the motions without paying much attention, almost as if on autopilot.

"John, are you alright?" Sherlock asks, noticing John's unusual far away look.

"Hmm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just thinking." he replies, handing Sherlock his tea.

"Don't strain yourself." Sherlock teases, smiling a bit as John rolls his eyes and moves to sit in his chair. Sherlock immediately seats himself in his own chair.

"Ha ha very funny." John says sarcastically.

"I thought so." Sherlock smirks.

"You're such an arrogant idiot." John laughs and Sherlock smiles.

"And yet you still put up with me."

"Of course I do."

"Why is that?"

"Isn't it obvious? It seems to be to everyone else."

"John, what are you going on about?"

A deep breath. "Sherlock, I'm in love with you." John stares intently at his flatmate, looking for some sort of response, but all he gets is Sherlock freezing in place and staring at him.

"Sherlock?" John asks worriedly. Sherlock opens his mouth as if about to say something, then closes it again.

"Are you alright?" John starts to stand, but Sherlock snaps out of it at that exact moment and pushes him back into the chair in another.

"John Watson, do you have any idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that?" Sherlock asks rhetorically, just before covering John's lips with his own and cutting off any form of response for a whole minute.

"Sherlock." John gasps out when they pull apart to breathe, a small smile playing about his lips.

"I love you too John." Sherlock says before he can back out. John smiles.

"I know you do." another kiss.

"Oh, and John?"

"Yes?"

"If anyone ever lays so much as a finger on you ever again I will personally detach their limbs one by one via dull knife."  
"I feel like it would be rewarding bad behavior to kiss you after you said that, but I'm going to do it anyway."


	17. Be My Pretend Boyfriend

"John, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend." Sherlock says as he busts into John's room at 3:00 AM. John is already awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes groggily.

"You need me to what?" John asks through a yawn.

"I told my mother that I had a boyfriend because she keeps pestering me about being all alone and one thing led to another and now she wants to meet you and I need you to please pretend to be my boyfriend." Sherlock explains.

"Why me?" John asks, still tired.

"Because you're the only one that I can think to ask. And you're my best friend." Sherlock says. John sighs.

"Yeah. Yeah alright." he agrees, nodding. Sherlock smiles.

"Thank you!" Sherlock says, then rushes back down the stairs. John shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"Lunatic."

.oOo.

"We are going to visit mummy this weekend John." Sherlock says when John comes into the kitchen that morning.

"Okay. What's today?" he asks.

"Thursday." Sherlock responds.

"So, how are we going to make our relationship believable?" John asks, starting to make his tea.

"I suppose act like we normally do. People already assume that we're a couple on a daily basis." Sherlock shrugs and John chuckles.

"You should probably be a bit nicer to me than usual." he suggests, causing Sherlock to pout.

"I _am _nice to you." Sherlock argues.

"I never said you weren't. I just said maybe you should be a bit nicer to me when we're pretending to be a couple." John says, smiling into his mug as he takes a sip and sits down across from Sherlock.

"Fine." Sherlock says grumpily, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

"What about kissing?" John asks. Sherlock nearly spits out his tea.

"Excuse me?" he asks, flustered. John fights back a chuckle.

"Well, if we're going to be a believable couple we do need to kiss at least once." John explains.

"Right. Of course." Sherlock nods, turning his head slightly in an attempt to hide his blush. John laughs and takes another sip of his tea.

"So?" he asks.

"So, what?" Sherlock asks

"So, what about the kissing?" John repeats.

"Oh. Right." Sherlock says, blushing again. "When it seems like it would be natural. And not on the lips unless we have to." John nods in agreement.

"Alright then." he sets down his empty mug and stands up, heading back up to his room.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asks.

"To get dressed. I'm meeting up with Mike today." John calls over his shoulder as he walks up the stairs. Sherlock pouts.

"Oh, don't be like that Sherlock. I'll be back around 1:00." John says, then kisses his forehead and leaves, leaving Sherlock frozen in shock.

.oOo.

John comes back around 1:30, and Sherlock is waiting for him.

"What was that?" he asks, his heart racing.

"What was what?" John asks, hanging up his coat.

"That...thing this morning." Sherlock clarifies, blushing and looking away.

"The kiss?" John asks, smirking. Sherlock nods.

"Well, I figured I should get used to it to make it seem natural when we go meet your mum." John says.

"Oh." Sherlock nods, as if it makes perfect sense. "Right. That's...that's actually pretty smart of you."

"Thank you." John smiles. Sherlock nods, his cheeks red. John laughs and kisses Sherlock on the cheek, fighting off a smirk.

"Tea?"

.oOo.

Sherlock knocks on the door to his parent's house, which is immediately opened by a kind looking woman.

"William!" she exclaims, wrapping her arms around Sherlock.

"Hello mummy." Sherlock says, hugging her back. "And I've told you, please call me Sherlock." John chuckles under his breath and Mummy Holmes switches her attention to him.

"You must be John, it's lovely to finally meet you!" she says, shaking his hand. "Sherlock never shuts up about you, ever since he met you he's told us all about how wonderful you are. It's no wonder that you two got together." she smiles warmly and John can see Sherlock blushing out of the corner of his eyes.

"It's lovely to meet you as well , Sherlock's told me a lot about you." a lie, but a harmless one.

"All good things?" she asks, as though she's worried.

"Of course." John smiles.

"Where's dad?" Sherlock interrupts, his blush fading.

"He's probably sleeping, the idiot." says, but she's smiling fondly. Sherlock slides past her into the house.

"Sherlock!" John scolds. "Sorry about him." he apologizes to her. She simply laughs.

"Oh don't worry about it, he does it all the time." she smiles and lets John in, leading him into the living room, where they find Sherlock talking to his dad.

"John! This is my father." Sherlock jumps up from the couch, grabs John's hand, and pulls him over to where his dad is sitting.

"Nice to meet you ." John puts his hand out for him to shake.

"And you as well John." he says, smiling kindly. John smiles, and then looks over at Sherlock, who is chewing on his lip nervously, glancing between the two. John squeezes his hand reassuringly and Sherlock smiles gratefully at him.

"Sherlock, John, go ahead and sit down. Talk to your father while I finish up dinner." says, hurrying into the kitchen. Sherlock sits down on the couch closest to his father and John sits beside him.

"So, John, you're a doctor, correct?" asks.

"Yes." John nods.

"And you help Sherlock with his cases?" he asks.

"I do." John says.

"Sherlock says you work at the clinic, how do you manage to get away when Sherlock and you have a case?" he asks.

"Well, I had a flexible schedule, but then I got fired because Sherlock decided it would be a brilliant idea to terrorize the people working there in order to get to my office." John chuckles at the memory. Sherlock blushes.

"John, I told you I was sorry about that." he says. John laughs.

"I know. And I told you that I forgave you. I just like to bring it up, especially when I know it will make you blush. You're cute when you blush." John says, fighting back laughter. Sherlock scowls at him.

"I'm not cute." he protests.

"You are." John says, smiling. is smiling at the two of them.

"John." Sherlock whines. John laughs and kisses his cheek, then turns back to Sherlock's father.

"So, , anymore questions for me?" he asks. laughs.

"Actually, just one more. Do you take care of Sherlock? Make sure he eats and sleeps enough?" he asks, concern clear in his eyes and voice.

"Of course." John nods, smiling kindly.

"Good." he nods, then stands up. "I'm going to check on my wife, you boys stay here." he says, then goes into the kitchen.

"John, I am not cute." Sherlock says, pouting. John chuckles.

"Whatever you say." John says, smiling.

"I hate you." Sherlock says, scowling.

"You really don't. Come on, we should go get our overnight bags and put them wherever we're sleeping." John says, nodding outside. Sherlock nods and helps John up. They go and get their bags from the rental car, then Sherlock leads John to his old bedroom. John sets his bag down and looks around, smiling.

"Was this your room?" he asks. Sherlock blushes and nods.

"Yeah." he says. John laughs.

"You obviously were just as obsessed with science then as you are now." John says, smiling over his shoulder at Sherlock. Sherlock chuckles and nods.

"You're acting a lot different here than you do at home. It's almost as if you're nervous, which obviously isn't true because you're the great Sherlock Holmes." John says, smiling and walking closer to Sherlock.  
"Obviously." Sherlock agrees, smiling.

"Why are you nervous?" John asks, cocking his head to the side.

"I honestly don't know, but it's entirely inconvenient." Sherlock says, crossing his arms. John laughs.

"If it's about me calling you cute and kissing you, I can stop." John says.

"No, that's not it. In fact that made it better almost. You're a good actor." Sherlock says. John hears footsteps.

"Someone's coming." he says, and frantically searches for a new conversation for them to be talking about, but before he can think of one, Sherlock's kissing him. John hears the doorknob turning and starts kissing back, his hands moving to cup Sherlock's cheeks. The door creaks open and there's a small gasp, then the door shuts again. A knock. Sherlock pulls back and moves across the room to the door and opens it.

"Yes mummy?" he asks.

"Supper's ready if you two are." she says in her kind voice.

"We'll be right there." he says, then closes the door and turns back to John, his face red.

"You're a good kisser." John says, leaning against the wall. Sherlock lets out a laugh.

"I just assaulted you with a kiss and that's your reaction? Not even to ask why?" Sherlock smiles, giggles escaping him.

"I know why. It was the easiest way to avoid suspicion." John smiles back, giggling through his words.

"We should probably go. If we don't they might think that we're...you know. Which, of course, is ridiculous considering we're both asexual." Sherlock waves his hands around.

"How'd you know?" John asks, smiling at him.

"Hmm? Oh. You never get an erection, not even just now, when most men would have no matter if they were straight or not." Sherlock explains. "I've also heard you refuse sex to your girlfriends on multiple occasions." John laughs.

"Incredible." he says, then moves toward the door, taking Sherlock's hand as he opens the door.

He doesn't see it, but there's a glimmer of hope in Sherlock's eyes when he does.

.oOo.

"So how long have you been together?" asks when they are all seated at the table and eating.

"6 months." Sherlock says, the lie rolling off his tongue easily.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she asks, seeming offended.

"Because we weren't, and still aren't technically out as a couple yet." Sherlock lies.

"Oh, yes, of course." she nods in understanding.

"So how did it happen?" asks.

"I was yelling at him for not eating and sleeping enough and when he asked why he should listen to me I accidentally said because I love you and don't want you to die." John said. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes laugh and Sherlock smiles down at his plate.

"John, when did you know that you loved him?" asks. John looks over at Sherlock and smiles lovingly.

"When I killed a man for him." John says simply. Mrs. Holmes smiles and Sherlock blushes.

"How about you Sherlock?" asks.

"I knew when I saw him wrapped in semtec and still trying to save my life." Sherlock says, smiling over at John, who leans forward and presses a small kiss on his cheek.

"Well, what else was I going to do?" John jokes, smiling. Sherlock laughs.

"I wouldn't have expected anything else." he says softly. clears his throat, bringing them both back to reality.

"What about Mycroft? Does he have anyone?" asks hopefully.

"I am pretty sure that he and Lestrade are together." John says, taking a bite of food. Sherlock looks at him incredulously.

"How did you deduce that?" he asks, smiling.

"Well, I mean one time Lestrade was wearing one of Mycroft's ties and another I saw Mycroft leave Lestrade's office right before we went in." John explains.

"Extraordinary." Sherlock says.

"Is this how you feel when I do that?" John asks, causing the whole table to laugh.

"Oh, that's wonderful! I've been so worried about him, more so even than I was about you, because I knew that at least you had John, but Mycroft doesn't have anyone." says, smiling.

"Make sure you call him and ask about it. And also tell him that John deduced it, that ought to bother him, because he's an idiot and thinks John's stupid." Sherlock frowns, and John kisses his cheek again, causing it to turn into a smile. John stands up and stacks Sherlock's and his plates, and then asks for his since he looks finished, but is refused. He washes them and then puts them up while Sherlock catches up with his parents. John walks back over to the table and kisses the top of Sherlock's head before sitting back down.

"Actually, we were just about to go to bed." says, smiling apologetically, then standing up and helping her husband to his feet.

"Good night." Sherlock says.

"Good night." , then disappears into their bedroom with his wife.

"They're nice." John says, smiling over at Sherlock. He nods.

"They are." he agrees, putting his feet on John's lap. John laughs.

"Come on, let's go to your room." John says, pushing Sherlock's feet off him and standing up, holding out a hand to help him up.

"I can stand up on my own John." Sherlock says, but takes John's hand anyway and pulls himself up. He overshoots a bit and ends up falling into John, almost knocking him over. John laughs and steadies them, their hands still clasped firmly together and shoved between their chests.

"Obviously." John says, smiling a bit. Sherlock sticks his tongue out at him and John laughs.

"Come on." Sherlock grumbles, turning and going to his room, John right behind him. They don't notice that they're holding hands.

"Are you going to be sleeping tonight?" John asks, his voice indicating that he will disapprove if he doesn't.

"Yes." Sherlock nods, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as John.

"Good." John smiles and opens up their bags, taking out his pajamas and throwing Sherlock's at him.

"John?" Sherlock says.

"Yes?" John replies, lifting his shirt over his head and pulling another on in place of it before Sherlock can see his scar.

"Thank you for doing this." he says, unbuttoning his own shirt.

"No problem. It was my pleasure." John replies, smiling and pulling on his pajama pants.

"Your pleasure?" Sherlock asks, his face turning red again.

"Yes. What's more fun than making out with your best friend and pretending to be dating him?" John winks and moves over to the bed, laying down on top of the covers and leaning against the headboard.

"Are you being sarcastic or are you...or are you flirting with me?" Sherlock asks, his heart pounding.

"I'm flirting with you." John says casually. "But you can ignore it."

"Why would I ignore it?" Sherlock asks.

"Maybe because you don't like me, which, judging by the way you kissed me earlier, is not true." John smirks and Sherlock blushes darker.

"Shut up." he mutters, crawling into the bed and under the covers. John laughs and turns onto his side.

"So are you going to do anything about it?" he asks, smiling. Sherlock shakes his head and turns away. John laughs again and kisses the back of Sherlock's head then gets under the covers as well.

"Good night Sherlock." he says.

"Good night." Sherlock replies.

.oOo.

When Sherlock wakes up he finds himself wrapped around John and vice versa.

"John." he whispers. John groans.

"What Sherlock?" he asks, his voice groggy.

"Do you mind moving?" Sherlock asks.

"Yes I mind. I'm sleeping and you're comfy. Stay." John mumbles, his arms tightening around Sherlock's torso.

"But John-" Sherlock starts but is interrupted by John kissing the spot between his jaw and his neck. He let's out a small whimper and John laughs.

"Stop that." Sherlock pouts, glaring down at John, who smiles innocently.

"If you stay I will." he says. Sherlock sighs.

"Fine." he scowls and John chuckles, then closes his eyes and attempts to get a few more minutes of sleep.

"Sherlock, honey?" a knock at the door and his mum's voice.

"John get off me." Sherlock says. John mumbles something and shakes his head. Sherlock sighs.

"Come in." he calls toward the door. opens the door and giggles when she sees the way they are entangled, earning a glare from her son.

"He refuses to wake up." Sherlock explains. She nods.

"Okay, I just wanted to say goodbye. Your father and I are going to town and probably won't be back by the time you two leave." she explains.

"Goodbye mummy." He says, waving. She smiles kindly and waves back.

"Goodbye William." she says, then quietly leaves the room.

"John wake up." Sherlock says. "Or at least move so I can go see if Lestrade has given us a case."

"No. Stop talking." John says, moving closer to Sherlock.

"John." Sherlock says in a warning tone.

"I will kiss your neck again." John counters.

"You wouldn't dare." Sherlock tenses.

"Try me." John looks up, smiling playfully.

"You're an idiot." Sherlock sighs and gives up. John laughs. Suddenly, Sherlock is struck with an idea. He leans down and kisses John next to his ear, then trails kisses across his cheek then stops at the corner of John's mouth. John whines and arches his neck trying to get Sherlock to kiss him on the mouth, but Sherlock just smirks and leans away.

"Get up." he says.

"You're cruel." John mutters, but rolls off of Sherlock.

"Thank you." he says, then swings his feet off the bed and stands up. He digs through his bag and pulls out his phone. 1 new message from Mycroft.

"What time is it?" John asks from the bed.

"12:00." Sherlock replies.

"Shit. We should probably get going." John says, dragging himself out of bed.

"That's what I've been saying." Sherlock looks up at John and smiles.

"Shut it." he mutters, pulling his clothes out of his bag and getting dressed. Sherlock chuckles and does the same.

.oOo.

When they get home, it's late. Sherlock immediately flops onto the couch and a few minutes later is joined by John.

"So." John says, running his hands absentmindedly through Sherlock's hair.

"I assume you are about to ask me about our relationship." Sherlock sighs.

"Yes I was." John smiles down at him. Sherlock moves so that he's sitting up, his knees tucked up underneath him.

"I won't be a very good boyfriend John." he says. John laughs.

"Sherlock, I have lived with you for 3 years. Trust me, I can handle it." he smiles. Sherlock blushes and looks down.

"I just want you to be happy." he says softly. John smiles and lifts Sherlock's chin so that he's looking him in the eye.

"Sherlock, you make me happy." he says. Sherlock smiles, and John leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Now, I'm exhausted and am going to bed. Are you going to join me?" John asks. Sherlock almost says no, but then sees John's face and nods. John laughs and stands, then helps Sherlock up. Sherlock smiles at John and leans forward, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you." he says.

"For?" John asks.

"Pretending to be my boyfriend. And also being my real boyfriend now." Sherlock says. John laughs and pulls him closer, his arms slipping around his waist.

"You're welcome."

**Author's Note: sorry I haven't updated in forever, I started school recently and, as you can see, got a bit carried away with this hecka long one shot. I promise to try to update more frequently.**


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